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  • #1653

    In reply to: Synchronicity


      Tracy is making the most of not being able to post and asked me to post some synchs for her:

      Tracy: thanks for posting the comments!
      Francie: okay, i will do that other one
      Francie: you love it eh?
      Francie: it appeals your head counterpart side
      Tracy: lobe what?
      Francie: making me post for you
      Tracy: hahahaha yeah its like having staff


      Francie: i took george to vet today for check up
      Tracy: hows he doing?
      Francie: well while we were all discussing vaccinations, he nosed open the door and went careering around the vets
      Tracy: hahahaha
      Francie: down to visit all the sick dogs. Like a crazy thing
      Tracy: oh how funny. Oh I bet they all loved it
      Francie: oh yes hilarious
      Tracy: I kept thinking today that any distraction, was taking Bills mind off the pain
      Francie: yeah
      Tracy: and so was George!
      Francie: ahahahahha
      Tracy: ahhaah I synced with george!
      Francie: hahahah!
      Francie: yes
      Tracy: would you write that in syncs under my name please
      Francie: okay


      Francie: what does a jewel on the forehead signify?
      Tracy: A flock of coots is known in the US as a cover
      Tracy: um, not sure, like an Indian thing?
      Tracy: why?
      Francie: some of my frogs had jewels on their foreheads, and then i watched a movie with jewels on foreheads
      Tracy: is it a Sikh thing? Or is it the chakra
      Francie: don’t know
      Tracy: which chakra is that or is it the third eye… What colour jewels?
      Francie: tarotteachings blogspot
      Tracy: ralphmag
      Francie: there is another 8 synch in that tarot one
      Francie: oh wow, a magazine synch Tracy
      Tracy: she understands, with a profound and inherent wisdom, that the universe is a magical and abundant place.
      Tracy: thats cool huh… What?
      Francie: the link you gave me: read the last paragraph
      Tracy: I was thinking about the magazine yesterday… WOW F, the last paragraph!
      Francie: yes!
      Tracy: would you post it on syncs for me?
      Francie: yes
      Tracy: please
      Tracy: I missed that bit, I just noticed the ittiel
      Tracy: tille
      Tracy: title


      Franiel felt an unaccustomed tiredness. The changes of late, his own indecision as to his path, were taking a toll and his spirit felt heavy. Despite the admonitions of Aum Geog to make all haste on this journey he decided to rest, and finding some soft grass under the shelter of a tree he sank gratefully down into it’s embrace.

      Just a short sleep, he thought drowsily.

      He was awakened by some gentle drops of rain falling on his cheek. Not knowing how long he had slept for, and seeing the darkness of the clouds in the sky, Franiel realised he had best find some shelter of a more permanent nature to wait out the storm.

      Franiel, he heard his name being whispered in his thoughts, it was no louder than a clear sky, but rang as clear as any sound he had ever heard.

      Follow me!

      And Franiel followed. Though he knew not what spirit it was leading him, he went swiftly to the entrance of a cave set in the side of the hill, as though he had known of it’s whereabouts all along. Just in time, for with a deafening clap of thunder, the heavens opened.

      From the shelter of the little cave Franiel looked out and felt a mixture of exhileration and awe at the power of the mighty elements he was witnessing . Though he kept his body dry, he sent his spirit out to dance in the rain, and laughing softly to himself, he at last felt the greyness of the last few weeks begin to ascend, as though lifted by the hands of angels, said the soft voice in his head.

      Who are you? whispered Franiel, feeling an inexplicable and sudden longing.


      It was the next day before Franiel was able to continue his journey. Making himself a small meal of bread and cheese from his provisions, checking that his precious cargo was secure in his pack, he set out feeling refreshed.


      In the flying car, Al was mentally reciting mantras and drawing symbols, and was distractedly participating in the conversation which he could follow thanks to telepathic transfers he grasped from his friends conversations.
      His gums were now much better, and he had recovered a wonderful smile with shiny pearl-white teeth.

      The car interior was now a bit small for them five, and Tina’d had to press herself on Al and Becky, who was almost disappearing in her boubou full of folds, her head wedged against the hat and the hat against the roof of the car.

      Can’t we get some air in there? asked Tina, who was feeling she needed to breathe more.
      Err… Let me check

      Sam’s friend was looking clumsily at some buttons for one to release the hood.

      Watch out! Becky cried, propping up her hat which had fallen on her eyes.

      They had narrowly missed a bunch of balloons floating in the middle of the buildings.

      Jeeze! It’s no better than the submarway this thing… Becky was being fidgety at everything and was wishing for the whole wedding preparations to soon be over.
      Is that a frog we hear? asked Armando who had finally released the hood, having Becky clutch her hat, as well as little Chump, with the strong wind now blowing on their heads.
      WHAT? FLOG A TIRE? Tina was shouting now, seeing now all the benefits of being able to telepathically communicate…

      A click on a button. The hood was again put on top of the car.
      Bit too noisy, hey? said Armando
      Well, didn’t really mind said Albert dreamily

      Oh dammit! Is there a damn frog in that car’s engine or what? Armando was stressed.

      Tina looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror and spluttered affectionately. Al had just mentally expressed he was experimenting with new yeast actions in his digesting system, and that there was some minor inconveniences on which he would have liked some discretion… His belly was swelling funnily and making gargoyling noises…

      Ahahah, a frog… perhaps even a blue-bullfrog with all that frogging noise! Tina was feeling surprisingly exuberant.


      In the creaking wooden caravan slowly moving its way on the dusty roads, Twilight was lost in deep thoughts, caressing mechanically the beautiful blond wig.
      She had done it almost on an impulse, but like all impulses she’d ever had, it had always felt deeply true to her core and she had gone. Now, it felt a bit strange, and too rational doubts were creeping along like viscous bugs, and she felt like judging her behaviour over and over.
      Of course, her brothers, Jo the first, and then Elroy, had been supportive, but they had always been that way. Even when their first reactions were to object to what she was doing, like dancing in the saloon, her determination was always winning them easily. She had promised to write often, and she would probably be back in a year.

      When the Freak Show had settled in town for a week, she had been at first almost grossed out by what was announced, and had not been her brothers to egg on her, she probably wouldn’t have been going to see them.
      Pat Elson, the director of the Fabulously Great Freakus (or FGF), was a little dark-skinned man in an orange suit and top-hat, with a communicable enthusiasm and a sincere consideration for the people he called “his performers”. Very soon, rather than being repulsed by the differences, Twilight had been attracted by the way of life of these people, and was considering traveling with them as an opportunity to discover more about the world and about herself. Her inspiration to write was even tickling her fingers like an army of ants she had never felt before.
      When she had said to Pat Elson that she was willing to travel and work with them, rather than laughing like he used to do, he’d taken a silent pondering moment to consider the options. Obviously Twilight wasn’t a freak herself, at least not physically freaky. But he couldn’t refuse help, as his business was growing every day. Venus, the armless woman, his best asset on the show, had been recently pregnant, giving birth to conjoined twins, and would surely appreciate two arms to give her a hand… so to speak.
      So he had agreed.

      The babies started crying in the caravan drawing Twilight out of her reveries. Venus was sleeping nearby, still exhausted, and Zarafina, the giraffe-woman, started to groan annoyed by the noise.
      Twilight hurried to cuddle the babies, checking that they were alright. All was right, they were probably only bugged by the bumps in the road. No wonder… she sighed.


      In reply to: Synchronicity


        For the 123 th comment on this thread (woot)
        Checking out the new trailers, there are new films coming this summer with islands & other dimensions syncs and more (sycamore?) :

        Fools Gold
        Ben Finn Finnegan (Matthew McConaughey) is an affable, modern-day treasure hunter who is obsessed with finding the legendary 18th century Queen’s Dowry*-40 chests of priceless treasure that was lost at sea in *1715. (that’s 11 and 57 with a little fold of imagination :yahoo_winking: )

        The Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian
        Some other-dimensional island sync on the opening sequence of the trailer…

        Nim’s Island
        Success-story female author, imaginary friends, island, frog technique coconut harvesting, even a goat! How funny…


        Before leaving the castle, the fake Viscountess needed to check something on the skull…
        Was it a genuine one? She had almost trusted the so-called experts of the auction room, while she knew perfectly well that they only could see what they knew. And they didn’t know as much as her.

        To her knowledge, there was only a handful of genuine old crystal skulls. But counterfeits were legions and a plague for such a skillful cat burglar as she was. Well, cat-burglar,… perhaps not as acrobatically as she used to… As a matter of fact, her life-long search for these skulls had suffered the competition of a little embonpoint… — the good thing being that those few sticky superfluous pounds had been perfect to impersonate the Viscountess.
        In the past, she had come across a few of these fake skulls and most of them bore very similar indications leaving her to think stakes were high that they were coming from the same con-artist.

        She methodically drew a little dagger from a scabbard at her belt. Going to one of the window, she drew one of the curtains a few inches to reveal the pale sun of Shropshire which was already fading.
        Then, she turned the jeweled hilt in such a special manner that a soft clicking sound was heard, and a beam of light started to converge from the sun rays into the dagger. She directed the ray coming from the tip of the dagger’s blade into the bottom of the skull, and hold her breath in expectation.

        Soon the skull started to glow a bluish light, and light poured out of the skull onto the walls in dancing symbols, while a soft buzzing sound was being heard around, started to drown her in a slightly dissociated state.
        She cut the dagger’s beam very quickly, her heart pounding at the validation. It was a genuine skull. One of the six.

        She had to hurry, she needed to proceed on her investigations to find the missing ones.

        The trunk was there. She took another key that she had around her neck, leaving the first one on the cupboard’s lock for the Viscountess to be freed as soon as she would be out.
        With the key, she proceeded to open the high-tech lock of the armored trunk which opened with a blow of air.

        Her jumpsuit was here, along with the two turbo-reactor powered condor-wings that she strapped on her jumpsuit in very professional movements.

        A few moments later, with her big dark sunglasses that gave her the appearance of an obese fly, Carla was flying high over the countryside of England, enjoying the soft gliding on the slightly damp air.


        Kay, what do you reckon? Is it any good?

        Kay had no doubt the marmoset wasn’t actually a marmoset. Being safe wasn’t much of an issue for a spirit dog, for as long as his symbiotic human friend would himself be safe. If that marmoset was actually a hint of another human presence on this accursed island, as Kay believed it was, it would mean that the island wasn’t as separate from the outside as it seemed. Someone had crossed the barriers… He had to find who, and why.

        I suppose it is safe enough, Yikes. I’ve made my decision. We’ll bring that individual to the HQ. Keep the mummy in check, but don’t brutalize it. It may prove useful… — At your beck and call, Kay! answered Robert X. The magpie named “Robert K”, codename Kay, started to morph into a boar, and very delicately lifted the mummy with its powerful snout until it was safely resting on its back, and started to go deeper into the woods, followed by the other magpies.



          There was a tentative knock on the door and Finnley, the weekly cleaner popped her head around.

          Oh Ms Tattler …. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here at… she checked the wootch on her wrist, 5:57 am .. but I saw the light on …. A horrified expression passed fleetingly over her face as she took in condition of the office.

          Perhaps I shall come back later Ms Tattler, she said retreating, and making a note to have a word to the building supervisor, Mr Arak, as soon as possible. Mind you this wasn’t the first time she had spoken to Mr Arak about the issue of Ms Tattler living on the premises, to no avail. He was mad as Almad that man. Perhaps I will bloddy resign while I am at it too, she thought. Perhaps I will tell him to bugger his job, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine! Finnly cheered up greatly at the prospect.

          Elizabeth, exhausted, only dimly registered the interruption, looking up for an instant she waved vaguely in the direction of the door, and then returned to her frenzied writing, eager to capture the last remnants of her dream before it faded.


            Arona finally managed to fall into a restless sleep.

            She dreamt she was walking down a narrow alleyway between a row of old brick houses. A woman hanging multicoloured shawls on a washing line called out to her.

            Where are you going? asked the lady. Are you lost or something? Do you need some co-ordinate points?

            oh no, said Arona, I am just checking out the other side. I heard there is chocolate over there. It is through that gate I think.

            The lady recoiled in horror. The other side! NO, you don’t want to go to the other side. I went to the other side once and I was never the same again. They all say I am mad now. No stay here and help me with the laundry.

            Arona hesitated. A rabbit, a lynx and a toad rushed down the alleyway. Woooooo Hoooooo, they shouted. We are going to the other side toooooooooooooo.

            Mad, said the woman shaking her head, completely bonkers I am afraid, and she threw fairy dust on Arona.


            Arona wakened from her strange dream feeling oddly refreshed. It was morning. She started making her way happily back towards the cave, anxious to see her friends again.


            Jo was looking at Mc Gaughran. He didn’t like him. Especially since he was so insistant at buying their ranch. It was not the price that was important. Mc Gaughran had offered them much already and Jo was a bit shamefull that he even once considered the offer. They had a little argument about that with Elroy, and he had felt very tore appart opposing his brother. He was very close to him and was admiring him so much.

            And he was feeling very protective toward his sister. She could do whatever she wanted, that was not the point. The point was he didn’t want other to bother her. And that Mc Gaughran was looking at her a bit too insistantly to his taste.

            He finished his whiskey an looked at the barman, Thomas. He was a very good friend of Elroy and him and was like a giant dwarf, stout and big red beard. He knew he could count on him to have a look at the man.

            — Have to go, Tommee, he mumbled. Be back later.

            Despite his disgust of Mc Gaughran, he also had some stuffs to check about the new man in town. He was feeling a bit unseasy as if some things would be unfolded, things that should better stay burried. He left the saloon like a shadow.


            Veranassessee carried the box carefully, periodically checking to make sure it was securely fastened. He was sure Dr Bronkelhampton would be pleased with the initiative he’d shown. Buying 100 breeding pairs of Blue Bonnet Spiders was a stroke of genius, he thought. They were known to eat mosquitos, and Veranassessee (or V’ass for short) was confident that he’d made a wise decision.


            Dory’s stopover at Heathrow airport was longer than expected, due to the knock on effect of delays caused by the air traffic controllers strike in Paris. She bought coffee in a paper cup and went and sat in the cramped smoking room. A couple of middle aged overweight women were sitting opposite her, their chubby knees almost touching Dory’s in the unpleasant little nicotine yellow room.

            Dory couldn’t help but listen to their conversation, and had to bite her lip on several occasions to prevent herself interjecting questions. Dory wanted to ask where this Tikfijikoo Island was. There was something about the sound of it that caught her attention, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on the strange feeling it gave her to hear the name.

            The two women, who appeared to be named Shah and Glaw, were apparently on their way to an island to participate in some kind of experimental treatment, Dory gathered, organized by a Dr Bronklehampton. On hearing the name of the doctor, Dory had a series of images flit through her mind. One of them was of an impish looking redhead with an incredibly large head, doing the tango.

            When the two plump ladies left the smoking room, Dory followed them. They bought magazines in the airport shop, and boiled sweets ‘in case their ears went’, and deliberated over sunscreen lotion, and then after some inaudible whispering, in which Dory heard only the words ‘treatment’ and ‘skin’, apparently decided against purchasing any of the skin care products.

            Dory followed them into the public lavatories, and learned that ‘our Mavis’ would be joining them for the treatment, and listened to a great deal of rather unkind comments about ‘our Fred’ and his bullying ways. On the way out of the Ladies Room, the bleached blonde named Shah collided with a bag lady, at which point Dory saw a shower of bright blue sparks in her peripheral vision. The bag lady looked up and laughed at Shah and her friend and said ‘It matters not, my friend….HA! HA! HA!’, and winked at Dory as she shuffled past.

            Dory followed the ladies to the baggage check-in desk. Yukailli Airlines. Dory had never heard of it; new airlines starting up all the time, she thought, and such silly names, like that Be My Baby one…what a daft name for an airline. Dory sauntered past, as she couldn’t really stand behind them without arousing suspicion. She was momentarily swallowed up in a swarm of Italians, there must have been two coachloads of them. By the time they’d passed her, Dory had made a decision. She would book a ticket to Tikfijikoo, hopefully on the same plane as Shah and Glaw.

            She turned around briskly, fleetingly wondering what to say to Dan and Becky about her sudden change of plans, and made her way back to the Yukailli Airlines desk.

            That’s funny, she said out loud, It was right here!

            She scanned the names above the row of desks….British Airways, Monarch, Air France, Qantas…..but no Yukailli Airlines. Dory asked at the Airport Information desk.

            I’m sorry madam, there’s no airline of that name here, the young man behind the desk informed her, looking at her quizzically.

            Dory opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish, and wondered for a moment if she had imagined it. Just then someone bumped into her shoulder, causing her to spin round. It was the bag lady she’d seen earlier in the Ladies room.

            Leaving at Gate 57 and three quarters, the bag lady whispered, and winked conspiratorily.

            Dory’s mouth fell open. She was about to say Oh now really, what is this, Harry Potter Airport? but something stopped her. Instead she asked, But what about tickets and baggage check? But the bag lady had gone.


              The legend of The Weaving Princess

              Once upon a time, in the Warring Kingdom of Landgurdy, lived the Yellow Princess Atiara. She was living with her father, the Yellow King of Landgurdy in the Subtle Palace of Aram Ardun, the capital.

              The day of Her 20 th birthday was a very special day. As for any normal citizen of the Warring Kindgom, it was the day She fully became an adult. And furthermore, it was the day of Her wedding with the man to whom she was betrothed the day of her 12 th birthday, Prince Shomar At Gurna from the War Clan Gurna Drom.

              The Yellow King had organized a sumptuous banquet in the Palace, and although the people of Landgurdy was not invited in the Palace, many banquets had been set all around the country. Only the War Clanners of Landgurdy were to be admitted in Her presence in this most special day.

              At the very moment of the blessing by the Priest of Tatasi, the slaughter had already been perpetrated. The treacherous War Clanner Namad Gurdin had made an agreement with the Warring Kingdom of Cromash Tur. One of them had been replaced by the Assassin Varad Romash Karad Din, Master of this infamous Guild. Cromash Tur had sworn that very day would be the end of the Landgurdy. And it was. Many had tried to unfold the mystery of the sudden death of all the War Clanners and the Nobles present at that moment. The fact is that they were all found dead by the servants who were intrigued by the silence following the blessing… No wound, no trace of poison. The death of all these people remains a mystery.

              Though, two were missing. The Assassin, and the Yellow Princess.

              Cromash Tur’s army invaded the Landgurdy shortly after that… No resistance encountered, no more War Clanners to assure the safety of the land.

              Though Cromash Tur’s Warlord always denied having captured the Yellow Princess, she was supposed held captive in an unknown shadowy place of the Marshes of Doom.

              The Death Guards were keeping an eye on her, and every cloth, every dish, every book that was given to her was meticulously checked. Nothing was to bear the slightest trace of yellow. According to the legend, her family was famous with their use of this magic color, one of their most powerful talent was the control of the weather pattern, and the King of Cromash Tur feared strongly she would use her power to destroy his Kingdom if She could see a yellow dot.

              The Marshes of Doom were so grey and shadowy, she could never see any trace of yellow there.

              (to be continued)


                Yann was thinking about their first kiss. They were not in physical proximity but the sensations were quite real, and it was enhanced by their mergence. When he talked about that with Quintin, his friend told him he had felt it too. He was in Scotland at that time, and they were playing energy games and creating connections. It was very intense and more and more intimate.

                Yann was in Scotland with his friend Bruno, and one night, as they were sleeping in the same bed, Yann was dreaming of Quintin, he was taking his hand. At that moment, Yann was also aware that his friend Bruno was taking his hand in the “real” world. He’d been thinking that his friend was channeled by Bruno, it was a fun idea :)

                They eventually planned a meeting in real life as soon as Yann would be back from Scotland… 4 days. Quintin even met Yann’s parents then, as his friend Bruno had organized a “surprise” for Yann’s birthday. When Quintin arrived at the train station, they both were feeling a bit awkward, didn’t really know how to say hello :yahoo_big_hug: :yahoo_thinking: :yahoo_kiss: :yahoo_thinking: well for now a hug was perfect. Yann was feeling a strong desire to kiss his friend, he was very attracted and the feeling was quite different from their energy games in Scotland. The physical proximity was creating barriers that weren’t there before… maybe the fear of being intrusive or aggressive…

                One thing at a time… they were eventually together for 4 days. It was a beginning.

                Quintin had some stuffs to take care of before they could go to Yann’s appartment. Something to do with his previous appartment, mail to check, some stuffs to take… Nothing particular to tell about that… Yann let Quintin do what he had to do, though he had a strong desire to stroke his hair. After a moment, that’s what he did.

                Quintin smiled. Yann was feeling an intense warmth in his body and he approached his head and kissed him. Well, that was awkward :)) but soon they were very comfortably lying on the bed and playing different games.

                Wow thinking again about all that was making him feel hot. Better go to work a little.


                  Nora Long was dying. She knew she didn’t have long left, and she had some affairs still to attend to before she was no longer able. Nora was a childless spinster, a frugal recluse with an uncanny knack for winning premium bond and lottery prizes; nothing big enough to attract much attention, but more than enough for her needs. Consequently, she had quietly amassed a fortune over the years ~ and she wasn’t about to let the state have it all.

                  Nora had spent most of her 88 years dreaming, and talking to ghosts and spirits. She wrote all of it down in notebooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, until the advent of the computer in more recent years. She had splashed out and bought one, and gamely taught herself how to use it, keeping her journals online from then on.

                  Nora discovered how to google one day. Wondering what in the world she might want to search for, a name popped into her head: Yurara Fameliki.

                  Nora had learned to trust her impulses, and she searched for the unusual name, double checking first with the voice in her head as to the correct spelling.

                  Nora began to read the story on the websites first page. Three days later, she was still reading it, as it grew day by day. Nora was almost sorry she had already chosen to die. At last she had found some people she could relate to!

                  But Nora was too weary to change her mind. She did have a plan though, a plan that cheered her greatly. On the websites pages she had noticed a little sign saying ‘Buy a Drink’.


                    Just testing F, so does that mean you couldn’t see it? Oh I see, my secret comment has a yellow band and Eric’s secret comment has a pink band…..of course, I am so trusting I haven’t changed my password, so if anyone was Agatha Christie :yahoo_peace_sign: enough they could check my (unsecret) secret whispers…… :yahoo_whistling:


                      Fiona had more or less given up on getting the pebbles from Yann, deciding they must have got lost in the post, so that evening when she happened to check the mailbox when walking past she was very surprised and delighted to see a package from him. It was way too late for the postie to have been, so she was intrigued as to how they had got there and where they had been all this time.

                      The three pebbles, well a couple of them were more like small rocks really and she was most impressed that Yann had sent them, were from the cave in Scotland he had visited a few months ago. Yann said the small one was from the cliff, the red one was one of the pebbles outside the cave and the grey one was from the stream inside the cave.

                      Fiona held each of them in her hand and got quite a strange feeling from them, and some interesting pictures came into her head…..

                      Yann had also sent a furry toy, a little scottish hairy cow. Apparently on his trip these hairy cows had reminded him of her. Fiona was a little perplexed by the seeming similarity but decided to believe it was a good thing. how quaint! she thought bless him :yahoo_big_hug:


                        Cuthbert woke up with a start, and called for Nanny Gibbon. What a horrible nightmare he was having!


                        Cuthbert trembled and checked his hands. Phew! they looked normal.


                        Nanny I just had an awful dream! Cuthbert clutched Nanny Gibbon’s dressing gown, and shuddered. There was this madman, Nanny, by a river, and he kept shouting about an evil hand….

                        There, there, Bertie, it was only a dream. How about a nice piece of Manon’s Yorkshire parkin and a cup of cocoa?


                        Captain Bone was packing his trunk. The boat was leaving at noon from the quayside of the fishing village, and the captain was nearly ready to say goodbye to the Sharples family. He’s been happy staying with the Sharples and their unruly brood, but he was a man of the sea, and the salty breezes and rollings waves and promise of new adventures was beckoning.

                        The sea mist rolled over the cluster of cottages as it often did in the early mornings, mingling with the aroma of coffee and freshly toasted crumpets. Captain Bone remembered other morning mists from other shores, warm ones laced with cinnamon and cloves, and chilly ones pungent with fishy smells and squalking gulls…… bright sunny mornings with long golden shadows and the endless half light of arctic northern ones.

                        The captain closed his trunk without checking to see if he’d remembered everything. Whatever he needed on his journey, he knew he would find. Whatever he left behind, he knew the Sharples would keep safe until his return.


                        Manolo the vet helped the captain onto the boat.

                        ¡Hasta la vista, hombre! ¡Buen viaje! Long Tom Bone winked and smiled. As soon as he’d set foot on the boat, he sighed a huge sigh of relief, and all the aches and worries of living on dry land drifted away.

                        The Sharples family passed the tissues round. It was going to seem strange for awhile without the captain.


                        The transmugrification was about to start.

                        Inspired by the improvised tune of Malvina, Leörmn had felt new arrangements coming for the cave.

                        He had been checking out every living being in the cave, and wanted to make things less complicated for them, without startling them too much. For creatures, that was easy, he could communicate well with them, and they knew the changes would be temporary.

                        But for humans, let alone gripshawks, that was more difficult as they could play deaf as pleased them.

                        Hopefully, the gripshawk was in good hands outside the cave, and that was probably better for her, as she would probably have hurt herself more than was necessary in not listening to the exhortations to stay calm.

                        As for the young adventuress, she was sleeping joyfully, and the little glukenitch that Leörmn had left to her side to keep watch and warn him in case she would be too distressed was silently watching over her.

                        Írtak was aware that the process was about to begin, as he had been trained by Malvina to listen to the flimsiest changes in the cave, and how his body was responding to these subtle modifications. This one would probably become of great dragon rider, but for now he was young and needed to hone his abilities. His father had been renouncing of telling him what was best and most reasonable for him to do, and allowed him to spend much time in the cave. He was not really interested by these magical things, but he knew they were important for his son, and was encouraging, in his own manner.

                        As for Malvina, she was unaffected in a way, because she was part of Leörmn as much as he was a part of her, and it was like they were moving hand in hand. These hiding and seeking the eggs were like a playful game between them, because their interests were different, but all in all, they were one, and trusted each other completely.

                        The more troublesome was perhaps Sanso, the wanderer. This one seemed trapped in between Worlds. The caves at times also acted as portals between Worlds, and this one had been unknowingly crossing the Worlds, as the delimitations between imagination and reality were only in words, and did not really exist. Leörmn was hoping he would not appear in the midst of the ruckus.

                        So, on one of the wooden decks near the apartments of Malvina, he sat, overlooking the glowing eggs, and bathing into the music.

                        Closing his eyes, he felt every part of the cave as if it were an extension of his own body, which was in fact much bigger than this current appearance, so big in fact that it was the World itself. And every creature breathing in it was a very cherished part of his body, and he slowly breathed in and out.

                        He envisioned a great light pouring from the volcanic insides of the cavern, which inundated the cave in a misty warmth. It was a loving light that neither glukenitches nor schpurniatz feared. And the sinuous insides of the caves expanded and straightened in huge corridors, and doors disappeared, and gorgeous paintings from the mind and craft of Malvina decorated the walls in rich colours.

                        And near the platform, inside the hall, a huge table sprung from the floor, for the banquet that was to come.

                        And a new egg was laid somewhere in the cave, glowing of an emerald tint.

                        This “one” was a bit different though…

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